


for my move, well I'm making it

by stolemyslumber



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stolemyslumber/pseuds/stolemyslumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has been a chick for three days when he sits down next to Brad on the couch, puts a hand on his knee, and says, “Brad. I think you should fuck me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	for my move, well I'm making it

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song "66" by the Afghan Whigs.

Ray has been a chick for three days when he sits down next to Brad on the couch, puts a hand on his knee, and says, “Brad. I think you should fuck me.”

Brad pauses Madden. He breathes in slowly through his nose. He breathes out slowly through his mouth. “Ray.”

“Who knows how much longer I’m gonna have a pussy, man, come on.”

“Ray,” Brad repeats in the voice he uses when he feels like he _should_ want Ray to shut up, as opposed to that voice he only uses when he actually does want Ray to shut up.

“Okay, fine. Do you at least want to touch my tits, then? They’re pretty nice. Not gigantic or anything, but I think that like, proportionally or whatever, they’re decent sized.”

Brad saves his game and turns off the TV. He stands up, looking down at Ray. Ray looks back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I think I’m going to have to gag you,” Brad says.

“I’m up for--” Ray starts, but then Brad’s picking him up and throwing Ray over his shoulder and Ray’s making this startled noise that’s definitely only that high and breathy because of the chick parts.

“Fuck yes, let’s go, the bed is a better plan than the couch.”

“Definitely going to gag you.”

“I should warn you, though,” Ray says, and Jesus, Brad’s ass looks amazing from this angle. “I’m all au naturel and shit. Like, I shaved my legs--”

Brad slides a thumb over the band-aid on Ray’s knee and says, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“--fuck you, legs have weird angles and shit, dude. But I didn’t shave my pussy or try any of that waxing shit because that’s fucking terrifying, right, a razor right next to all the important shit. Have you ever shaved your junk, man? People say it feels better, like there’s more sensation and shit, but you’re not gonna feel anything if you slice one of your balls off or something. But maybe the wax thing is okay if there’s a hot girl doing it to you? But only if she--”

Brad flips him off his shoulder. Ray hits the bed, bouncing, his breath whooshing out of him. Brad’s on him the next second, shoving Ray’s shirt up around his armpits, and then Brad’s mouth is closing around one of Ray’s nipples.

Everything goes kind of fuzzy around the edges. He’s looking down, and the whole having tits thing is still weird; they’re right there on his chest, soft and sudden, and Brad’s swirling his tongue around the tip of his nipple and then biting lightly. Ray makes this little “oh” sound, and Brad smirks up at him, sucking a hickey into the inner swell of Ray’s breast. He looks so fucking smug and Ray is going to hit him as soon as he remembers how to move.

Brad cups Ray’s other breast in his hand, squeezing, thumb sweeping over his nipple. Ray feels like he’s going a little crazy. It’s like watching porn and being in it at the same time. He’s watching Brad touch and squeeze and bite this soft pair of tits, like the ones he stares at when the girl from the apartment down the hall goes to the laundry room in a tank top with no bra under it, but he’s feeling it at the same time because they’re _his_ tits.

Brad starts moving, biting a line down Ray’s belly. His stubble is rough against Ray’s skin. He stops when he reaches the waistband of Ray’s basketball shorts, resting his chin just below the elastic and looking up at Ray.

“Yeah?” Brad says, and Ray definitely does not shiver at the feel of Brad’s breath on his skin.

“If you’re not eating me out in the next ten seconds, Brad--” Ray starts, but Brad’s already tugging his shorts down, tossing them off the bed and dipping down between Ray’s legs. He uses his thumbs to spread Ray open and then his mouth is there, on Ray’s--on _him_ , inside him, hot and amazing. Ray’s already wet, just from Brad touching his boobs, and he feels all shaky and hot and weird. This is the best idea he’s ever had.

Ray lifts his hips up toward Brad’s mouth, moaning, and Brad responds by moving his mouth away. Ray has a moment of _what the fuck, no_ , and then Brad’s mouth is back, a little higher, tongue flickering out over what must be Ray’s clit because Ray’s whole body is lifting off the bed, shoulders and heels the only parts of him still on the mattress.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” Ray gasps. He can fucking _feel_ it when Brad’s mouth curves into a grin against him, the smug motherfucker. He bends his knee, trying to angle it so he can kick Brad without moving away from Brad’s mouth. Brad’s ninja reflexes kick in and he’s sliding a hand down Ray’s thigh to the back of his knee, spreading Ray’s legs wider, ruining the angle and Ray’s glorious revenge. He starts sucking on Ray’s clit ‘til Ray’s shuddering again, and he waits until Ray lets out this ridiculous whimpery sound to slide a finger inside him.

Ray’s body clenches down on it automatically, because there’s something inside him and it feels weird. Brad just holds his finger there, inside, moving to lick around it and then back to Ray’s clit. Ray feels a hint of teeth and then Brad’s finger is moving, slick and easy. Before Ray can even register what’s happened, one finger has become two and Brad’s tongue is flicking steadily. Ray can’t stop making these little gaspy noises, working his hips up to meet Brad’s fingers and mouth. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling until the heat’s washing over him, radiating out from where Brad’s mouth is pressed against him. He clenches down tight on Brad’s fingers.

Brad slows his tongue but doesn’t stop moving, working Ray through it. It starts feeling like too much, like he’s going to shake apart or something if Brad doesn’t stop. He pushes at Brad’s shoulder with one hand, the other busy pulling the sheets halfway off the mattress. Brad finally pulls back. Ray gets a second to breathe, gasping in air, and then Brad is blowing on his fucking clit and for a second he thinks he might come again.

When Ray pries his eyes open, Brad is pressing his cheek to Ray’s thigh, licking his lips, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. Ray twists his fingers in Brad’s t-shirt and pulls him up, yanking the shirt off over Brad’s head as he moves. He slides a hand around the back of Brad’s neck to pull him in. Fuck, his hands are tiny.

“This is so weird,” Ray says, licking into Brad’s mouth to taste himself. He can feel Brad’s hard-on against his thigh, obvious through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. Brad starts to move his fingers again, gentle little movements, and Ray really thinks about it all of a sudden. Brad’s cock compared to his fingers, how it’s going to be inside him, and it seems kind of impossible. “Are you--” he starts, pulling away to look down and feeling like kind of an asshole for getting off and then suddenly not being sure about everything. Brad’s not, like, scary pornstar huge, but he’s, like. Proportional. Shit.

“Um,” Ray says.

Brad gives him an easy smile. “Baby,” he says, and when Ray starts to open his mouth to ask what the fuck Brad just called him, Brad just gives him a these-are-the-things-we-will-never-talk-about look. “It fits. It’ll feel good.” He twists his fingers just a little; Ray sucks in a breath and Brad says, “Trust me.”

Brad slides his fingers almost all the way out, and when he presses back inside he’s added another. Ray’s breath goes kind of shaky for a minute. Brad kisses him, soft and almost chaste. He slides a hand down over Ray’s belly and starts to work his clit until Ray starts lifting his hips to match Brad’s movements. Brad starts thrusting his fingers slowly inside Ray. He leans up toward the head of the bed, mouth never leaving Ray’s. His fingers leave Ray’s clit, though, and Ray hears him fumbling into one of the nightstand drawers.

The bed frame squeaks when Brad settles back over Ray. He sits up on his knees and puts the corner of the condom wrapper between his lips so he can tug at his sweatpants one-handed, pulling them down over his cock. Then he opens the condom wrapper with his fucking teeth. Ray is torn between being distracted by how stupid hot that is and thinking about how Brad’s cock is never ever going to fit inside him and then he thinks _wait, what the fuck_.

“What the fuck,” he says. “Are you serious?”

Brad looks up at him, startled. “What?”

“You’re not even going to take your pants off?”

“Ray.”

“Brad. Don’t you want my first time to be special?”

Brad rolls his eyes but he’s grinning as he drops the still-wrapped condom on Ray’s stomach and tugs his pants the rest of the way off. His fingers haven’t stopped moving inside Ray. Ray can feel his composure slipping away with every thrust. Brad’s going to have ammo against him for the rest of time. It’s a good thing they already decided they’re never telling anyone about any of this.

The sweatpants get tossed in the same direction as Ray’s shorts, and Brad raises his eyebrows at Ray. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Ray says, voice mostly steady. Brad reaches up to tug Ray’s shirt the rest of the way off. Ray sits up partway to help, and the motion pushes him down on Brad’s fingers. Ray doesn’t make any ridiculous noises at all, but something must show on his face because Brad’s crooking his fingers and pressing them in even deeper. Ray makes this little desperate noise, hips moving to try and get Brad further inside, even though Ray can feel the swell of Brad’s knuckles pressed against his skin.

He looks up, expecting Brad to look all smug at the noises he’s getting Ray to make. But Brad’s eyes are hot, pupils blown wide. He’s licking the corner of his mouth, breathing unsteady. Ray’s not the only one who’s all weird and affected by this, and that’s enough to spur him into picking the condom up off his stomach and sliding it out of the wrapper. He moves toward Brad’s cock and freezes for a second, having a sudden attack of _what the actual fuck am I doing right now_. He looks up again, and Brad’s looking back, eyes serious.

“Don’t worry,” he says solemnly, “I’ll be gentle.”

Ray snorts, grinning, but he thinks _you’d fucking better_ as he slides the condom onto Brad.

Brad shifts back, lowering himself down over Ray. He smooths his hand up Ray’s thigh and lifts his leg up, spreading him wider. The move turns Ray’s hips up, opening him up, and Ray has to close his eyes for a second. Brad circles his thumb over Ray’s clit. “Okay?” he asks softly.

Ray takes a breath and opens his eyes, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, come on,” he says, reaching up to pull Brad down to him.

Brad kisses him, tongue sliding against Ray’s, distracting him while Brad slides his fingers out of Ray and lines himself up. Ray makes a choked off sound, biting at Brad’s tongue none too gently when he feels the head start to press inside. Brad just bites back, teeth catching Ray’s lower lip. Ray feels himself stretching impossibly wide, Brad’s wet fingers on his clit not enough to counterbalance the thrumming ache of it. Brad keeps pressing forward, slow and steady, and then the head is inside him. Ray moans into Brad’s mouth.

Brad stops there, with just the head inside, letting Ray adjust. He brings his hands up to cup Ray’s breasts, tugging lightly at his nipples. He sucks at the tip of Ray’s tongue. Ray feels like he can’t even breathe. He tries to focus on relaxing, on Brad’s hands, and it gets a little easier. Brad starts rocking his hips, pressing in just a little further and then pausing there ‘til Ray relaxes around him again, pressing in a little more.

At some point after what seems like years, after Brad drops a hand back down to draw his fingers in little patterns over Ray’s clit, a switch flips and it starts feeling more good than bad. Ray makes a “hmm”ing noise against Brad’s mouth and shifts his hips experimentally. Heat blooms low in his stomach.

“Fuck, oh,” he gasps, and Brad slides in the last couple inches on the next thrust.

“Jesus Christ,” Brad says through clenched teeth, tucking his face into Ray’s neck.

“Mm-hm,” Ray agrees, slinging a leg over Brad’s hip. “Okay. You should -- you should move now.”

Brad rolls his hips out and back in, cautious at first. Ray moans, shuddering at the feel of Brad moving inside him.

“Come _on_ ,” Ray urges, bucking his hips up to meet Brad’s next movement. Brad shudders, biting down hard on Ray’s neck. He starts moving in earnest, lifting Ray partway off the bed with each thrust. Ray wraps his other leg around Brad, hooking his ankles behind Brad’s back. The angle changes and they’re both gasping with it, shuddering. Brad grabs his hips and lifts him up, fucking into him harder. Ray yanks the sheets clear off the mattress, twisting them in his hands, reaching up to brace himself against the headboard when Brad starts to push him further up the bed.

The build-up is slower this time, and Ray knows what he’s feeling now, this weird tingly heat that radiates out from where Brad’s sliding in and out of him. It builds with each snap of Brad’s hips, every wet kiss he presses to Ray’s neck, every sweep of his thumbs over Ray’s hipbones. Ray can feel himself getting close but it’s not quite enough, so Ray slides a hand down over his belly to touch himself. He fumbles for a moment, hands still startled at not finding his own cock there, and then his fingers slide over his clit and he is _gone_. Shouting, shaking, arching off the bed, pleasure coursing through him, and he stops moving his fingers after a while but Brad’s still moving, rocking up into him, and it feels like Ray’s never going to stop coming.

Brad goes still all of a sudden, and then Ray can _feel_ it when he comes. Ray sinks down on the bed and Brad follows him down, pinning Ray to the mattress.

“Oh, fuck,” Brad gasps. He pulls his head up just enough to press his lips to Ray’s and then drops his forehead to the bed. “Jesus Christ.”

They lay there like that for a while, coming down, until Ray starts to feel kind of smushed and he thinks Brad might be falling asleep. He pokes at Brad’s ribs a few times until Brad shifts and carefully pulls out. It stings a little, but Brad smooths a hand over his stomach and then it’s over. There’s a wet thwack when Brad tosses the condom into the trash can by the bed and then he settles back next to Ray.

“That was awesome,” Ray says.

“Yeah,” Brad says into the mattress.

“You totally plucked my flower like a boss, dude.”

There’s silence for a moment and then Brad’s laughing, and Ray is too, grinning up at the ceiling.

They trail off into a comfortable silence. Ray shifts a little, wincing at the stickiness between his thighs. Brad hops off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. The faucet runs for a moment and then Brad is back, cleaning Ray off gently. When he pulls the washcloth away, it’s faintly pink in the middle, and Ray stares at it. Brad’s looking at him when he pulls his eyes away, brows raised but a hint of concern in his eyes.

Ray just shakes his head and gives him a lazy, sated smile. “Are you gonna be the big spoon or not?”

Brad grins back at him, heading back to the bathroom. “It’s not too late to gag you,” he says over his shoulder.

Ray starfishes out on the bed, pushing the twisted-up sheets down with his feet. Brad pulls them out of the way when he comes back, climbing in next to Ray.

“The fuck did you do to the sheets, Ray?”

“They’re fine, it’s fine, shut up and cuddle, asshole.”

Brad grumbles at him but pulls him in close, tucking Ray under his chin. Ray snags a corner of the sheet and pulls it up over them. Brad’s hand curves over his belly and Ray’s asleep in seconds.

 

*

 

When Ray wakes up, his dick is back and Brad is lying next to him looking extraordinarily, unbearably smug. Ray’s distracted at first, sleepy and busy sliding a hand under the sheets to touch himself. Not even in a dirty way, just to make sure everything’s accounted for and shit. So it doesn’t occur to him right away that the two things are connected, Brad being all pleased with himself and Ray having his parts back in working order.

“Well,” Ray says pointedly, “it looks like the sexual reassignment fairy corrected her mistake sometime in the night.”

Brad’s smirk gets bigger. “I don’t think that’s what happened.”

“No, no, it totally is. It lasted for three days and then it wore off. That’s probably just how long whatever voodoo magic shit that was lasts.”

“Ray.”

“Shut the fuck up. You do not have a magical all-powerful cock that turned me back into a dude.”

“I think that’s exactly what happened,” Brad says. “I made you come so hard your parts switched back.”

“No. No, this is probably some secret government experiment, and they do it to people all the time but everyone’s so freaked out by it that they don’t tell anyone, so we haven’t heard about it. And they used some gamma ray X-Files shit to turn me into a smokin’ hot chick, and then last night they used it again, but they reversed the polarization or whatever science bullshit stuff they do, and turned me back into a smokin’ hot dude.”

“You watch too much TV, Ray,” Brad says, stretching. The sheet slips down, and Ray’s eyes trail down over his stomach to where Brad’s cock is half-hard between his thighs.

“Although if your theory is correct,” Ray concedes, “we should probably test it.”

Brad narrows his eyes at Ray’s sudden change in tactics.

“I mean, what if your new powers are so strong that they turn everyone you fuck into the opposite gender? Like what if you picked up a girl at a bar, went back to her place, and then snuck out in the middle of the night, but then she woke up a dude and had no way of finding you? She could be stuck like that forever.”

Brad nods slowly. “Point. We should make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Brad reaches out to grab Ray’s hip, tugging him closer. Ray opens his mouth. “You know, Brad, with great power--”

“If you finish that sentence, I will seriously have to gag you.”

“Promises, promises.”


End file.
